


stanford era

by largoindminor



Series: wincest love week 2015 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/largoindminor/pseuds/largoindminor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>do you think sam and dean were ever thinking of each other at the exact same time those years they were apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	stanford era

**Author's Note:**

> wincest love week day 3

                                                          1.

I’m driving through East Texas on my way to Baton Rouge, and it’s raining just enough to give everything a damp gray chill. The Long Beach Arena recording of Moby Dick’s on the radio and I’m drumming along on the steering wheel just like you used to hate, I can almost feel your glare burning into the side of my face, almost taste your pout in the air.

There’s a Greyhound bus that passes me on the left, Cali tags on it catch my eye and before I can stop the damn thought from forming I find myself wondering if you’re on it.

You ain’t. ‘Course I know that.

                                                          ~~~

It’s sunny today in Palo Alto, the kind of sunny where it looks like the whole world’s tinted yellow and blue and the air smells sweeter than it ought to, for no reason at all. There’s a bonfire at the beach tonight, all the kids from my dorm are going but I think I’ll stay in and study. Still the same old school nerd you used to tease, I guess.

It’s so close but I still haven’t been out there yet. Didn’t feel right to see the ocean for the first time without you being there to see it with me.

Wonder what things you’re seeing without me.

                                                            2.

Motel rooms feel different when you’re alone. Quieter, but noisier too, all kinds of strange noises that I guess have probably always been there, I just couldn’t hear ‘em before 'cause I was concentrating on your steady breaths across the room.

                                                          ~~~

God the people here, they always want to talk. Don’t laugh, but I miss the silence. I wish I’d appreciated it when I had the chance, your strong silent presence, our knack for non-verbal communication, all the conversations we had without ever saying a word. I felt like we were lacking, like without the words there was something missing. Now all I want is someone to look at me and know just what I’m thinking. Maybe no one else can do that but you.

                                                           3.

I met a girl here in Missouri and she’s pretty great. Smart in all the ways I ain’t. Soft. Passionate about shit, like politics and current affairs. I think you’d like her. Scares me, though, cause I think I’m falling in love with her. Not scary like in the movies where there’s some dumb guy afraid to commit to the perfect girl, just scary because it ain’t even half as big as what I feel with you.

What If I never get to feel that again?

                                                         ~~~

I think I’m going to ask her to marry me. She’s amazing, gorgeous and bright and artistic, and kind. I love her, so much. Wrapped up in her arms is the closest I’ve felt to being home since- well, for a long time. Sometimes, though, sometimes I look at her and all I see is the wrong dirty blonde hair, the wrong set of green eyes, the wrong pattern of freckles. Even her birthday is yours.

Will I ever get over you? 


End file.
